


Babel Promise

by Lgbarnecraft



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Existentialism, F/M, Library of Babel, My contribution to this ship is of course some weird arthouse shit, Thinly-veiled soulmate AU lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lgbarnecraft/pseuds/Lgbarnecraft
Summary: After vowing revenge, and failing to attain it, Mozume wakes up in a seemingly infinite library. She’s no reader, but the promise of finding a book that can grant her wishes is enough to keep her going.Meanwhile, a lost prince named Xander has been stuck in the library for a few years now. Sent by his father to find knowledge of how to attain eternal life.When they stumble upon nearly identical books, with the only difference being their names imprinted into them, they begin questioning the true nature of this strange place, as well as their own goals. But can they find something larger beneath the mountains of useless text? Can they find a happiness together, even?(Based on the short story: “Library of Babel” by Jorge Luis Borges.)
Relationships: Marx | Xander/Mozume | Mozu
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Introduction

“The library is composed of an indefinite and perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries, with vast air shafts between, surrounded by very low railings. From any of the hexagons one can see, interminably, the upper and lower floors. The distribution of the galleries is invariable. Twenty shelves, five long shelves per side, cover all the sides except two; their height, which is the distance from floor to ceiling, scarcely exceeds that of a normal bookcase. One of the free sides leads to a narrow hallway which opens onto another gallery, identical to the first and to all the rest. To the left and right of the hallway there are two very small closets. In the first, one may sleep standing up; in the other, satisfy one's physical necessities. Also through here passes a spiral stairway, which sinks abysmally and soars upwards to remote distances. In the hallway there is a mirror which faithfully duplicates all appearances. Men usually infer from this mirror that the Library is not infinite (if it were, why this illusory duplication?); I prefer to dream that its polished surfaces represent and promise the infinite ... Light is provided by some spherical fruit which bear the name of lamps. There are two, transversally placed, in each hexagon. The light they emit is insufficient, incessant.”

  
-Opening Paragraph From The Library of Babel, by Jorge Luis Borges


	2. The Search For Vengeance.

Mozume did not belong here. 

That much was clear from the nature of this place. Dimly lit archives, fancy wood shelves, the lounges and cafés that sat in the sides of the vestibules, the endless darkness of the high above and the deep below. This was a library, a place for those who read, and for those who sought knowledge.

Mozume did not read. It was tough for her to even reach the top of the shelves without standing on her toes. She was taught to read, mostly Hoshidan texts, but she could read English well enough. After all, it was a language made to compromise between Nohrian and Hoshidan, a language for all. But Mozu knew her place, it wasn’t scholarly, her place was in tough work, a living. Once she could keep a living, then she might have considered reading as more than a recreation. As for seeking knowledge, however, Mozu did happen to share that motivation. In the early days of autumn, tragedy struck. Horrific monsters in masks had attacked her home, the little farming village of Pagus, just miles from the border between nations. They were known as faceless, and she’d believed them to be myth. Up until they were surrounding the town, collapsing the buildings, murdering her neighbors...

Her mother, her only family.

She’d barely escaped with her life, but that hardly mattered. The truth was that this wasn’t a tragic accident. Her hometown was a casualty of war. Just another step towards Nohrian conquest of Hoshido. Their lives didn’t mean anything to whoever ordered the strike, if anyone did make such an order. Everyone who died didn’t deserve it. Not one bit. Someone had to pay, double for unjustified murder... With naught but a crudely sharpened pitchfork, she attempted to attain revenge. A Nohrian keep situated in the bottomless canyon. Despite her determination, she drew no blood from the soldiers stationed there. For her foolish attack, she was thrown into the depths of the canyon. Where she closed her eyes and waited, perhaps she’d see her mother in the afterlife...

Fate was cruel to her twice, for she would not go to heaven or hell. Mozu would instead awaken to her current surroundings. 

The Library. 

Her first day was spent calling out for help, anyone to help her sort this out. The second day, someone answered. But not with the exit she so desperately wished for. Rather, an explanation of the Library’s rules. Mozu huffed with frustration. Every possible text in existence, or future existence? That wouldn’t give her anything. That would just give her a headache. And then the man said something, just before Mozume was planning to tune him out...

“There’s a book here with exactly what you need. There’s a book here for everyone and every thing... You’ve just got to find it.”

Exactly what she needed.

“Is there a book that can tell me how to leave?” She asked.

“No such book has been documented as of yet.”

That sure complicated things. But her determination wouldn’t let her leave empty handed. 

“Can a book here tell me how to bring someone back to life?” She asked.

“Maybe.” The man replied.

Good enough for her.

She scoured the spines of five chambers’ worth of books. Going by title, judging by cover. Mozume found no titles that might pertain to what she wanted to know, except one: a book entitled “Life Rebegin.” She eagerly removed it from its shelf, and opened it.

Her excitement deflated, less like slowly fizzling out, rather, it was quickly popped to death.

The first page was... Nothing. Nothing she could decipher, anyway. Random letters, with some spaces, commas, and periods mixed in. 

Page two, more of the same. 

Page three... four... five... one-hundred-and-eight... three-hundred-and-twelve...

At which point, she was already skipping pages. There was nothing of any value.

She placed the book back on the shelf, and opened another. As she sadly expected... There was nothing here either.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, would she die here? No, there was plenty of food and water, seemingly as infinite as these books. But if so many books were like this, what were the chances that she’d find HER book? Slim to none? Thinking about it was painful already. 

‘This has to be hell.’ Mozu thought. ‘Too afraid to die, too prideful to sift through all these books...’

Eventually, she settled in. Keeping to herself, reading through a single book every other day or so, something to at least keep her entertained. Other times, she’d just sleep around in the lounge.

In her first week in the Library, Mozume has found a small treasure. Incomparable to some other oddities she’d heard of from traveling librarians who had been stuck here much longer than she. A book entitled “Mother.”

The contents were just as illegible as every other book she’d picked out, but the title was something she clung to. This book was the one she carried with her through the Library, to remind her of her fight. One that perhaps she could never win... But she’d be damned if she didn’t keep trying. 

Even if Mozume didn’t belong here, this place had something that belonged to her.


	3. Supplement I

“One book, which my father once saw in a hexagon in circuit 15-94, consisted of the letters M C V perversely repeated from the first line to the last. Another (much consulted in this zone) is a mere labyrinth of letters whose penultimate page contains the phrase: “O Time, thy pyramids.” This much is already known: for every sensible line of straightforward statement, there are leagues of senseless cacophonies, verbal jumbles and incoherences. (I know of an uncouth region whose librarians repudiate the vain and superstitious custom of finding a meaning in books and equate it with that of finding a meaning in dreams or in the chaotic lines of one's palm ... They admit that the inventors of this writing imitated the twenty-five natural symbols, but maintain that this application is accidental and that the books signify nothing in themselves. This dictum, we shall see, is not entirely fallacious.)”

  
-From The Library of Babel, by Jorge Luis Borges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been about a month since I worked on this piece. College gave me a good kick in the ass, so I couldn’t focus on it. Working on the next true chapter, should be done very soon, but in between each chapter I’ll have a short supplement from the actual short story to set things up. In this case, we learn of those who find “meaning” within the library's confusing volumes.
> 
> If you’re not quite getting the concept, the Library of Babel is a theoretical library that, under a certain rule set, contains every book ever written or to be written. The issue with this is that it’s algorithmic in nature, so 90% of the material in the library is complete linguistic garbage. But if you look hard enough, you might find an actual sentence or two, or a full novelization, or even this very fanfic.
> 
> You can try it for yourself here: https://libraryofbabel.info/


End file.
